


When This is All Over

by Littleshebear



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Humour, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 23:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleshebear/pseuds/Littleshebear
Summary: In the face of culinary disaster on Titan, Sloane and Amanda make dinner plans for after the Red War.





	When This is All Over

It didn’t take much longer than a day or two to for Amanda to come to her considered opinion on Titan: The place utterly blows. The constant rain and rigs that threatened to topple into those roiling, methane seas would be enough, never mind the Hive clamouring at their doorstep. She’s tired. Trying to repair the Arcology’s crumbling infrastructure is an exhausting and unrewarding task while her attempts to lift the Commander’s spirits seem equally sisyphean. She decrees that she needs a break and goes in search of the Deputy Commander. If there was one silver lining to coming to this Traveler and whatever gods you can think of forsaken place, it was Sloane’s presence. Where Zavala was pessimistic, Sloane was optimistic. Where he saw obstacles, she saw solutions, or did her best to, at least. 

 

Amanda eventually tracked her down to what was once a staff canteen. Sloane is hunkered over a pot on a hotplate, regarding the contents of the pan with a serious expression. 

 

“Hey, good lookin’!” Amanda starts singing that old pre-golden age refrain. “What ‘cha got-” She stops in her tracks as she gets a whiff of steam emanating from the pot. “What’s cooking? No seriously, what is that? That smells like…” She tails off, unable to find the right description for this assault on her olfactory senses. 

 

“Crota’s jockstrap?” Sloane helpfully suggests. 

 

“Yeah.” Amanda nods, covering her nose and mouth with her hand. “That works. So, what are you doing?” Amanda asks, her voice sounded muffled and congested in an attempt to keep from breathing through her nose.

 

Sloane chucks the wooden spoon she’d been using to stir the foul-smelling go back in the pan with a disgusted sigh. “Zavala told us to salvage whatever we could. That includes food. We only have so much to keep us going and our supply lines are. Well. We don’t have any. Unless we can get hydroponics up and running soon...” She shakes her head. 

 

“I’m working on it.”

 

“I know. That wasn’t a dig.” She puts a lid on the pot to contain the worst of the smell.

 

“So. I’ll ask again. What were you cooking?”

 

“I found some old ration packs while we were scouting the Arcology-”

 

“Oh no,” Amanda chimes in, unable to stop her nose from wrinkling again. 

 

“- I mean, they were sealed and-”

 

“No!”

 

“ Wishful thinking?”

 

“Suicidal thinking. How old do you reckon those are? No, don’t tell me. Just chuck ‘em in the sea. All of ‘em.” She crosses over and gingerly pushes the pan to the far side of the hob. “You die of food poisoning? Your Ghost can’t bring you back. That’d really ruin my day.”

 

“That would ruin your day? Not the hive witches screaming down the vents all hours of the day and night?”

 

“Nah, that’s like background noise now.” Amanda glances at the utterly disgusting attempt at food then back at Sloane’s worried face. “Hey. Don’t sweat it. We’ll figure something out. We always do.”

 

“I know,” Sloane runs a hand through her mane of silver hair. “I just wanted to be able to tell the old man something good. Just one thing to stop him worrying, you know?” 

 

“He’d find somethin’ else to worry about, you know what he’s like.” Amanda claps her hands together and draws herself up to her full fraction of Sloane’s height. “I’ll do a deal with you.  When this is all over, I’ll cook you my pa’s chilli recipe. Forget hundreds year old rations, we’ll have that to look forward to.” 

 

“When this is all over?” Sloane’s burgeoning smile belies the scepticism in her tone. 

 

“Yeah.” Amanda counters, nonplussed. “When we take back the City.”

 

“When. Not if. I like that.” Sloane reaches out and tucks a strand of unruly blonde hair behind Amanda’s ear. “Fancy that. This war has barely begun and I’ve already got myself a dinner date for when it’s over.”

 

Amanda flushes scarlet and starts babbling, “Nah, I mean, it’s just the food here sucks and, I thought it’d be nice but...it’s not a date, uhm, unless you’d like it to be, I mean, well, maybe -”

 

Her nervous gabbling is cut short when Sloane gently cups her face in her hand and brings their lips together. It’s soft and chaste and it only leaves Amanda wanting more. 

 

“Is this okay?” Sloane asks, running her thumb along Amanda’s lower lip.

 

“No.” 

 

“No?” Sloane looks utterly crestfallen. “I know guardians and mortals aren’t always the best match-”

 

It’s Amanda who interrupts Sloane with a kiss this time, albeit far more forcefully. She’s hungry but not for what’s sitting on the hob. 

 

“This?” She gives Sloane a peck on the lips for emphasis. “This is very fine. But.” She purses her lips and glances towards the disgusting pan of horrors on the cooker. “Can we do this somewhere a little less…”

 

“Malodorous?” Sloane fills in. 

 

“Does that mean stinky and gross?”

 

“That it does.” Sloane nods.

 

“Don’t wanna associate this with stinky and gross.” 

 

Sloane nods eagerly, “I’ll get a Frame to chuck it in the sea. Frames don’t have noses.”

 

With that, Amanda threads her fingers through Sloane’s and lets her lead her to somewhere more private, somewhere with air approaching clean as it gets on Titan. She wonders if she should feel guilty, feeling this happy at what many consider to be the end of the world. 


End file.
